Two Months Later
“Good morning,” Victoria greeted her family as she entered the kitchen.
Holly smiled at her, Alexia grunted from her cereal bowl, and Hugo nodded his head half-heartedly while maintaining his gaze on his iPhone. It was the usual Sunday morning breakfast.
Except this was not going to be like any other Sunday. She’d decided that today would be the day.
She poured herself a mug of coffee, picked up an orange, and walked over to the table. She kissed the top of Alexia’s head before she sat down.
“Mom, can we go to the Guggenheim this week? They have an exhibition I want to see,” Alexia asked.
“Later in the week maybe; it will depend on how the court case goes,” Victoria told her. “Mommy needs to make sure she’s available in case the judge needs to hear her tell her side of the story for the ten thousandth time. Because judges don’t understand that people have busy lives.”
“And judges want to make sure that everyone gets a fair trial,” Holly added.
Victoria picked up the entertainment section of the newspaper and started to flip through it. She had no intention of responding to that remark.
“But you won’t go to jail, right?” Alexia asked.
Victoria looked up and frowned. “Why would I?”
Alexia shrugged and returned to her cereal, swirling the spoon around the milk, the few floating pieces of whatever sugary cereal Holly had allowed her to eat being pulverised in the process.
Holly put her arm around Alexia’s shoulders and leaned in close. “No jail could hold your mother, you know that.”
“They’d send her back after a couple of hours,” Hugo added.
Victoria looked from Holly to Hugo, not knowing who to tell off first.
“True,” Alexia agreed.
Victoria huffed and turned her attention back to her paper.
“Your mom isn’t in any trouble,” Holly continued. “She’s just helping everyone so they know exactly what happened so that everything can be sorted out.”
“The paper said money was stolen from Arrival and they made it look like Mom did it,” Alexia said.
Victoria looked up again. She hadn’t known that Alexia was actively reading about what had happened. They’d given her a brief overview of the situation, but Victoria knew the papers liked to twist things for a more entertaining read.
“That’s true,” Holly said, “but she didn’t do anything, and everyone knows that. She’s just helping out so the judge knows what happened.”
“Promise?” Alexia asked. She looked up at Holly, her brows furrowed.
“Pinkie promise,” Holly agreed. She held her hand up, her little finger outstretched.
Alexia matched the move, and they shook with their little fingers. Victoria smiled to herself and looked back at the paper.
She’d agonised for weeks over the perfect way to ask Holly to marry her, eventually consulting with Gideon who had talked her down from some of her more apparently outlandish ideas.
Admittedly, hiring the New York Choral Society to serenade them was overkill.
It was Alexia who brought a sudden end to most of her plans. Just three nights ago, Alexia had demanded an emergency meeting with her. They’d sat in Victoria’s office, Alexia taking her chair and Victoria relegated the guest chair for some reason. Alexia had told her, in no uncertain terms, that it was high time she proposed to Holly.
She said she agreed, and Alexia had let out the almightiest sigh of relief and told her she needed to get on with it and “put a ring on it.” Victoria patiently explained that she was preparing something because she wanted it to be perfect for Holly.
Alexia had made a face. She explained that Holly didn’t like being the centre of attention, nor did she like big, flashy shows of affection. Which was absolutely right. Victoria realised that evening that she had been cruising blindly towards creating a perfect proposal for someone else, but certainly not for Holly Carter.
And so, she’d ended up asking her nine-year-old daughter for advice on proposing to her girlfriend, which was quite surreal and not at all where she expected to find herself at forty-eight years of age.
“I was thinking,” she said as she tapped her finger on the paper. “Maybe a trip to Central Park?”
“I was actually thinking of Brooklyn Botanic Garden,” Holly said.
She paused, not expecting Holly to have turned down a trip to one of her favourite places. She considered the change and decided it wouldn’t really impact her plans, which were woefully simple. She just hoped Alexia was right about keeping things modest.
“Of course, sounds lovely.”
“Sounds boring,” Hugo said, on cue.
Of course, she’d already discussed the matter with him. She needed both of the children to agree to vanish for an agreed amount of time to give her the opportunity to propose.
“Yeah, Yawnsville,” Alexia agreed.
“Then why don’t you two come with us for a short walk and then you can do something else?” Holly suggested. “At least get some exercise.”
“Fine,” Hugo muttered, attention back on his phone.
“Okay, but not a long walk,” Alexia bartered.
The children bowed out after just twenty minutes, which was all it took for Holly and Victoria to get to the Bluebell Wood.
The butterflies that danced amongst the flowers were nothing in comparison to the ones in Victoria’s stomach. She’d attempted to remain upbeat, so Holly wouldn’t notice that she was going through some kind of crisis. She had no idea if it was working or not because everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.
She knew she had to get on with it and find out if Holly would even consider spending her life with her before she gave herself some terrible medical condition brought on by ridiculously high amounts of stress.
Thankfully, it was a peaceful and quiet day in the garden, and the Bluebell Wood was completely empty.
“This is so nice,” Holly said. “Just what I wanted for today.”
“Likewise,” Victoria agreed. Her hand gripped the small jewellery box in her coat pocket, and she rubbed her thumb gently over the velvety material.
She’d had a speech planned out, but it had somehow vanished from her mind and she was left with absolutely nothing. For someone who had spent their entire life editing a magazine, words weren’t supposed to be difficult to come across, but today it seemed impossible.
“Can we sit down?” Holly asked, gesturing to a beautifully carved bench.
“Of course.” A rest was probably a good idea. She was struggling to catch her breath, such were her nerves.
They both sat down, and Victoria looked out over the thousands of bluebells planted under oak, birch, and beech trees. It looked perfect. Now she just needed to find her words.
“With everything that happened recently,” Holly said, “I’ve realised some things.”
“Me too,” Victoria agreed, suddenly remembering the start of her proposal speech now that the words had somehow come from Holly’s mouth.
“I don’t know if I tell you often enough how much I love you,” Holly said, taking her hand. “I know I say it a lot, but I need you to know that I mean it and also how strong that love for you is. Being apart from you was painful, and I never want to do that again.”
“Neither do I,” Victoria agreed readily. She knew she had to get into the conversation and say something soon before the moment passed.
“The thing is,” Holly continued, “I know you think I’m young, but I know what I want from life. And that’s you. And our family. I want that, and I want it forever. And I want the world to know about it.”
Victoria’s eyes widened as she realised that Holly was proposing to her.
“Wait.” The word fell from Victoria’s lips.
Holly stopped. Her cheeks were flushed, and she licked her lips, fear in her eyes.
“No. No.” Victoria stood up. “No, I was supposed to say this. I had it planned. I just didn’t have time to say it because you wanted to sit down, and I… I just needed another couple of moments.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. This was ridiculous. Her simple proposal had gone completely off the rails. This wouldn’t have happened if she’d had that man from New Jersey release a hundred white doves. No, Holly wouldn’t have been able to sneak in her own proposal before they came flying overhead.
Holly burst out laughing.
Victoria slowly turned to look down at her. “Is something amusing you?”
“Are you seriously miffed that I’m proposing to you before you get a chance to propose to me?” Holly asked, still laughing.
“Yes! I’ve thought about this for weeks, the planning. And then the booking, and then the cancelling because skywriters are contributing to climate change. And flash mobs, where do you hire them? They are all in California. Try to find a flash mob in New York, I dare you. Then Ellen said she’d help, but, really, if she is going to continue with that awful clothing line of hers then I don’t think I can continue to be friends with her at all.”
Holly stood up and grabbed her hands, a huge, ridiculous grin still on her face. “I’m sorry, deeply sorry, that I commandeered your proposal,” she said without even a trace of real apology in her voice. “Please, do continue. I promise I won’t interrupt your proposal with my own.”
Victoria sighed. “Well, you’ve said most of what I wanted to say.”
“Then how about we don’t use words?” Holly suggested. She pulled Victoria closer and gave her the gentlest peck on the lips. Followed by another, and then another. Finally, Victoria caved in and returned the kiss.
They wrapped their arms around each other and held on tightly. Victoria opened her mouth and met Holly’s tongue with her own. It wasn’t quite how she’d pictured the proposal, French kissing in Brooklyn, but it seemed to be going well.
She pulled away.
“Marry me,” she said, more of a demand than a request.
“Of course,” Holly said.
She fumbled with the box in her pocket before opening it and showing it to Holly, hoping that the plain and simple band with the tastefully cut square diamond, which was at least five times smaller than she’s intended before consulting Gideon, would do.
Holly gasped. “That’s beautiful, Victoria. And far, far too expensive.”
“Nonsense. I’ve been embezzling from Arrival for years,” Victoria deadpanned.
Holly laughed again and pulled her into another kiss.